


Gather me close

by i_claudia



Series: summer pornathon 2014 [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F, Summer Pornathon 2014, Team Gluttony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 10:16:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2265960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_claudia/pseuds/i_claudia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen works the night shift, seven to seven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gather me close

**Author's Note:**

> Challenge 1 from Summer Pornathon 2014: Texts from Last Night
> 
>  
> 
> _"[(818): Fyi I let myself into your place, I'm wearing some of your clothes in your bed. Come take them off](http://textsfromlastnight.com/Text-Replies-427.html)"_

Gwen works the night shift, seven to seven, and she likes it -- the hospital is quiet, all beeping monitors and slow movement after the 8pm medication rush. She likes going home in the morning, too, likes being able to watch the sunrise as the birds begin to sing and the commuters stumble into coffee shops.

Sometimes, instead of going home on her days off, she goes to Morgana’s. Morgana’s never there; she leaves too early for her own job. “To beat the rush,” she always says, and Gwen dutifully doesn’t say anything about sibling rivalries and pointless contests of wills.

She uses Morgana’s shower, spends long minutes soaping the smell of antiseptic off her skin in long strokes. She pulls Morgana’s clothes on, after, slipping into an old purple camisole soft from wear and a pair of Morgana’s panties before curling up in Morgana’s bed and pulling the sheets around her. It isn’t like having Morgana curled around her, but she sleeps more soundly anyway.

She sleeps straight through the day, straight through Morgana’s texts, not waking until Morgana crawls into bed with her, late that evening. She smells like perfume, and when Gwen rolls over to greet her, she tastes like scotch. She kisses Gwen hard, presses close until Gwen is gasping and opening to her, letting Morgana slide her tongue into her mouth, her knee between her thighs.

“Missed you,” Morgana says, quiet, lips brushing along Gwen’s skin.

“Saw you two days ago,” Gwen says fondly, pushing Morgana’s hair out of her face. Morgana rolls her eyes and bends to push her tongue against Gwen’s nipple through the thin fabric of the camisole, fingers slipping down, down over Gwen’s belly to run along the scalloped edge of the panties. 

“Much too long,” she murmurs, muffled against Gwen’s breast. Gwen’s distracted from replying when Morgana’s hand flattens out between the rise of her hips. Gwen’s spreads her legs eagerly, anticipating; she can’t help the hitch in her breath when Morgana finally thumbs lightly over her clit, her hand pressed close by the silky stretch of the panties.

“You,” Gwen gasps; “you don’t waste time, do you?”

“Not when the payoff is this sweet,” Morgana says, grinning, and bites at the soft undercurve of Gwen’s breast as she slides two fingers along Gwen’s folds, the noise of them in the slick unmistakable. Gwen hisses a breath through her teeth and bends her knees up, and Morgana pushes the shirt up her stomach, sucking a biting trail down the soft rolls while she works Gwen with her fingers, teasing until Gwen is sweating and rolling her hips into the touch, begging for more.

“Can’t believe you,” Morgana says, her own voice wobbly. “Come home, find you here in my bed, in my _clothes_...” Gwen groans, and Morgana pulls her fingers _out_ , smearing them over Gwen’s skin. Gwen makes an outraged noise, and then Morgana is pulling the panties aside, though she doesn’t strip them off. She has her tongue on Gwen -- she has her tongue _in_ Gwen, and Gwen falls apart with Morgana’s face buried between her thighs, Morgana’s tongue deep and clever, everything slick and hot with the borrowed panties cutting into her hips. She barely needs Morgana’s fingers: Morgana pulls back and licks her, long confident strokes straight up to her clit, and Gwen’s finished, whimpering high choked groans as Morgana brings her through it.

She means to help Morgana, but Morgana’s got the fingers of her free hand deep in her own cunt and Gwen knows the way she’s gasping against Gwen’s thigh means she doesn’t need any help. She’s there already, just from taking Gwen so masterfully apart. 

“Thanks,” Gwen says, drowsily, when they’ve come down and cleaned the worst of it off themselves with the corners of the sheets. “‘s just what I needed.”

Morgana kisses her, sweet, letting Gwen taste herself. “Darling,” she says, “that was only round one.”


End file.
